PS 3501 
.S49 P6 
1917 
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i'oems and Essays 



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Composed by 

JENNINGS B. ASHCRAFT 

The Crude Poet 



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P \^ POEMS AND ESSAYS 




JENNINGS B. ASHCRAFT 

Author of Poems and Essays 



Frazeysbur^, Ohio 
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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



To Readers: 



Owing to defective speech, it seems as though nature has 
granted me this medium of expressien. I am glad to accept it; 
and, as you can plainly see, this mode is in its infancy. 

My schooling consists of about six years, in a country 
school. There I managed to learn to read and write. Arith- 
metic and grammar, did not appeal to me, so I devoted most of 
my time to the study of history, geography, physiology and 
spelling. 

My associates are few. Most all the other boys run wild 
both night and day, in what they call Society. 

I seek consolation by the old family fireside, conversing 
with my father, mother, brothers, and sister. 

I enjoy the luxuries of farm life, owing to the fact that 
my father is a retired farmer. 

I have written several poems, but will place before you 
only those that I think best. If it were possible, I would rather 
place before you, one good poem, than one thousand pages of 
nonsense verse. 

I have never had the pleasure of being in company, with 
any girl, owing to the fact, that my actions are very crude, 
and the determined efforts of some people, to check the ad- 
vancement of certain men, because, they, themselves are un- 
able to crawl from the sea of misfortune. But, instead of cast- 
ing myself into the same stream, I strike out across the con- 
tinent, constantly repeating the saying of an old prophet— 
"Eagles Soar Alone." 4-. ^ S ^"^ 

©CI.A47J1519 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



MEMORIAL PARK. 



I visited Memorial Park, 

And great was my surprise, 
To see huge forms carved in rock 

Facing the southern sky; 
Near by that beautiful cottage 

Where Baughman, the sculptor, dwells, 
I saw where magnets of Nature 

Had broken a magic spell. 

Confronted by the statue of Jesus, 

I paused a moment and thought 
Of His death — of the great crucifixion. 

Of the perils that time has wrought; 
And I thought of the mind of the sculptor. 

Who pictured his image there. 
The statues of martyrs and sages, 

As portrayed in heaven's lair. 

I thought of the past, of the trials 

Of the mother, now fast asleep. 
Dreaming not that her boy was a sculptor. 

With a mind magnificent and deep; 
And I thought of the gray-haired father, 

Who gazed with awe on. the sight 
Of Lincoln, Grant, and McPherson 

Carved in the rocks on the height. 

There in the gentle breezes. 

The statues seem to swell; 
There in a cozy cottage 

Ohio's sculptor dwells; 
Mankind will sure remember, 

And wonder long and well. 
How Baughman reached the summits 

And kept his place so well. 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



WHEN IT'S MOONLIGHT AMONG THE PINES. 

The scenes of the past are serene in my mind, 

When it's moonlight among the pines; 

And I sit in the breeze of the mammoth vines 

When it's moonlight among the pines. 

I dream of my love, of the years rolling by, 

Of her golden tresses, her virtues so rare. 

Her fanciful features, her musical voice. 

All these are pinioned in the moonlight there. 

I think of those days when my sweetheart was young, 

When joys of this life from my bosom were wrung; 

I think of her promise that she would be mine, 

And sing her sweet praises in a sort o' rhyme. 

HER PLEA. 

Won't you, won't you come tomorrow? 

Ere "the morning dawns so fair;" 
We will walk into the garden, 

Pluck the morning glorys there. 
Won't you walk into the garden? 

Scent the fragrance of the air, 
Where amid the scenes of Nature 

You may seek my promise there. 
Yes, I'll come tomorrow morning, 

We'll walk among the flowers; 
There I'll seek to pluck the roses. 

There we'll spend the morning hours. 
I desire to pay a tribute 

To thy father old and gray; 
Would not he accept a treasure 

Of his past and by-gone days? 
Yes, said she, he will accept it, 

What is it you seek to give? 
Is it words, or is it marble. 

Or eternal life to live? 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



I shall give to him his dear one, 
Who was once his life and pride, 

Who, through sorrow, and through sickness, 
Was his only trusty guide. 

I shall not present her to him, 

Until you have promised nie, 
That you'll follow me forever 

Through life's raging, boundless soa. 

What! will you bring back my mother? 

Place her in the vacant chair; 
Let her gaze into the moonlight 

Mid the pine trees standing there. 

Yes, I'll place her in this cottage, 

If you'll promise to be mJne; 
Promise me, and you shall see her, 

Ere it's moonlight 'mong the pines. 

Her Pledge — 
I will promise to caress you; 

Moments fast are fleeting now, 
If I only see my mother, 

I'll fulfill this promised vow. 

I will wed you ere the morning 

Breaks with all its precious light; 

I shall bless thee through all sorrow 
Until death these tokens blight. 

Then I spake unto the Heavens, 

And the angels coming near, 
Waked the old man from his slumber; 

Gave to him his love so dear. 

Then I led the lovely mother. 
To the maiden's chamber door; 

And the mother held her darling. 
In a fond embrace once more. 

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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



Then the maiden turned and kissed me; 

Thanlted me well for what I'd done; 
Said be sure and come tomorrow, 

Ere there beams the morning sun. 

So I left them there together; 

All were happy, all were smiles, 
The old man had apoplexy. 

And lived but a little while. 

Next morn while the dew was sparkling, 

I walked to the cabin door. 
And learned that the ones who loved me, 

Would v/elcome me here no more. 

Angels had taken the trio; 

Carried them to Heaven's home; 
Left me alone mid the flowers. 

In pain ever to roam. 

But my darling left a message, 
Fastened to a mammoth vine, 

Bidding me to sing her praises, 

When it's moonlight 'mong the pines. 



THE POET. 



The poet dwells where virtue shrouds the mind. 
Where Beauty, Love and Justice joy unwind; 
Obscure from falsehood's deadly silent thrust. 
He gives this world his all and sacred trust. 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



He loves this life as well as all the rest, 

By God's own hand the poet's words are blest ; 

A prophet of the great sublime and just, 

We carve great fame beneath his humble bu:-.t. 

Born to endure the pangs of human hell, 
In solitude, in fields the poets dwell; 
They praise, they consecrate the human race, 
Vv'hile we the walls of ignorance deface. 

Though years have flown, the poet's name lives on: 
We idolize his works; though he is gone. 
We weave for him a chaplet that is just, 
He gave this world his all, and sacred trust. 



Oh, Jennings, I hate to answer you thus. 
But I must please papa, you know I must; 
Among the things I dread to do 
Is saying "no" to men like you. 

Mamma says you are a fine young man. 
Papa says j^ou don't amount to a damn; 
He says you will drink and spend your money, 
And flip around like a wounded bunny. 

Some say you're a poet, others say you're a fool ; 
Some say you're a fighter, many say you're a mule ; 
Mamma says, don't care what others may f.ay. 
Have hope and await the coming of May. 

I'll be of age — give dad the slip, 
And take a good long wedding trip; 
For the present I will live in disgust. 
For I must please papa; you know I must. 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



SWEETHEART DOLLIE. 



Down beneath yon weeping willow, 

Where the old Ohio flows, 
There is where my darling's sleeping. 

Where the silvery waters flov/. 

Still stands there the little cottage, 

Once a home so dear to me. 
Sitting in the lonely twilight, 

While soft winds swept o'er the lea. 

Dismal scenes surround the cabin. 
Which once seemed a holy place; 

Flowers once bloomed, now are fading, 
With them fade all thought and grace. 

When I paused within the shadows. 

Of the dear old cabin walls, 
I stood there amid the flowers, 

With the fairest one of all. 

'Twas the graceful form of Dollie, 

The dearest one to me; 
She has left me sad and lonely. 

Where the winds sweep o'er the lea. 

Some day, some pleasant morning. 

When I view the rising sun, 
I shall greet my sweetheart Dollie, 

When my own life's course is run. 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



IS IT TRUE? 



They say we can't drink, 
They say we can't think, 

Matters not if we are dry; 
They say we go "roiin'," 
Pull their windov/s down, 

Murder them before they die. 

Jess James did not booze, 
Jined church like you'se. 

He shot people all the same; 
The devil ne'er drank, 
He always gave thanks. 

And played away at his game. 

The happiest men, 
Sure live in a den. 

Where there's whiskey, beer and wine. 
They're good to their wives. 
They fight for their lives, 

As well as the Great Sublime. 

Lot us all keep still, 
Let brewers distill, 

And drink as much as they please ; 
Let us all forget. 
They are living yet. 

And drinkers will live at ease. 

When peace is restored. 
We will all feel bored, 

'Cause the drinkers fought like men; 
They charged into hell, 
For liberty, fell, 

The men from the gambler's den. 

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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



CAN BUT SHED A TEAR. 



The old chair now stands vacant, 

I sit here all alone; 
My mind filled with pent anguish, 

My heart has turned to stone. 

My darling is not with me. 
She's gone away to stay; 

Her smiles — her sweet caresses, 
I long for day by day. 

My dearest love was taken 

When she was young and fair, 
And now she's gently sleeping 
In Death's celestial lair. 

The shades of night have fallen, 
Our home is filled with gloom; 

I wait for Death to take me. 
And place me in her tomb. 

And there beside my loved one, 

I'll pass eternal years; 
Less lonely than the present, 

Alone with thought and tears. 



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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



A PLEA. 

Come yc, who love the sword of power 
And meet me at the appointed hour. 
To break the clasp of treason's ring 
And weld the links of Freedom's chain. 

Come ye, who love the sword of peace, 
Come ye, who falter in the least, 
Come ye, who love the human race 
And lift a Nation's fallen grace. 

Our fathers waved the Stars and Stripes 
In triumph o'er all human rights; 
They won the Freedom of the Seas 
And set the race of mankind free. 

And little did they dream that now. 
Their sons to England's crown would bow; 
Forsake their fathers' land and dwell 
Forever in a kingdom's hell. 

Arise! ye Sons of Liberty 
And still old England's voice. 
Send forth our gallant soldiers 
And conquer Canada's cross. 

Then sweep the restless ocean, 

And banish foes before; 
Then, shall our glorious banner 

Wave, from shoro to shore. 

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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



MY ENEMIES. 



My enemies are doomed to failure here; 

They speak not praise, they falsify in vain, 

They damn themselves, their friends, and all the world, 

Entwine themselves with idiotic chains. 

Subdued by Nature's all prevailing strength. 

Not gifted with her lust, they stand alone, 

Trembling in the presence of her might. 

I know how vain it is for them to think 
That I can write, conceive of Nature's laws; 
And that is why they seek now to destroy 
Those elements my great God hath given. 

I grin defiance at their mad-like thrusts; 

They can but miss the mark and wound themselves, 

I stand where Virtue marks the pace of all, 

They stand where falsehood crowns each mortal's life. 

They cannot pluck the sweetest fruits of life; 
The little birds heed not their scornful call; 
My enemies are but a life-long jest. 
For well I know their reckless course is fraud. 
They can but live and die — return to dust. 



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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



EVENING. 



The shades of consecrated laws are drawn, 
Ere daylight's days have kissed all worldly forms, 
And in the Heavens gleam ten thousand stars, 
Which represent the worlds of life afar. 
We see the solar system's glorious gems, 
Sparkling planets, shooting stars, and then 
The moonbeams falling softly o'er the lea 
Casting magic diamonds in a distant sea. 
Imaginations fill each mortal's mind with fear, 
When evening dav^ns the milky way seems clear. 
Mankind hears not the turmoil of the day, 
While Nature binds the volumes of our play. 
And weaves among the elements a place 
For such as we, the only human race. 

We see not that which surrounds us, 
When the daylight fades into dusk; 
Vast climes are gleaming above us, 
Arrayed in their splendors of -lust. 
The flocks are nestling in iraldew, 
The huge sky is dressed in its blue; 
The bees, the birds, and the toil-worn, 
Are free from the trials they have borne. 
Next morn, man with a newer life, 
Wakes to endure turmoil and strife. 
This change, endured for many years. 
Mixes each human's thought with tears. 

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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



SHALL WE? 



We have started on life's journey. 
Through time's narrow barren vale; 

Do we dare attempt a passage, 
Without either ship or sail? 

Shall we falter at the crossing, 
Shall we fold our pale hands, 

Shall we grasp the oars and bravely 
Steer towards the Sublime sands? 

Row! we mid the giant breakers; 

Where the billows heave and roll, 
Where the quiet evening sunset, 

Speaks repose to every soul. 

Shall we light the future's portal, 
With a torch which has no flame. 

That our children might dwell ever, 
'Mid the corridors of fame? 

We shall weep not then or falter. 
We shall reach the farther shore; 

Where mingled with the Sublime sands 
We shall sleep forever more. 



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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



THE TITANIC. 



Gliding along 'mid the silv'ry waves, 

O'er Atlantic's fathomless grave, 

Gazing afar into Heaven's fair land; 

Titanic possessed of a glorious band. 

The sculptor pictures his images there, 

The poet dozed in his quiet la.r, 

Thrilled with the scenes of that cloudless night, 

Each thought of future peaceful and bright. 

The rich man dreamed of his lustrous gold, 

The lover thought of a love grown cold, 

The women dreamed of broken vows. 

While death crept near the great ship's prow. 



A sudden thud — and the great ship struck 
A huge iceberg — O, what dreadful luck; 
Two thousand souls then began to sign. 
No mercy or help— from sea to sky. 



Out of the din of the deep sea's roar. 
The wireless flashes from shore to shore, 
Spreading the news of Titanic's fate; 
But, Oh! the messages came too late. 
Life boats were lov/ered into the sea, 
The crew sang, "Nearer My God to Thee." 
Then comes a shriek, a thunderous roar— 
The life boats are full, they'll hold no more 
The great ship lists vv^ith a sudden roar. 
To sink 'neath the waves forever more. 



The waves sang clear, in unbroken tones. 
Stranger, come here- -I claim thee my own. 

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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



This poem is dedicated to four veterans who served their country 
during the Civil War — James Hamby, Captain John Evans, Joshua Moran, 
and C. M. Bell. I wish that I were better able to sing their praise. 

Let us review the tear-stained past, 
And hear once more the bugle's blast, 
The cannon's roar, the bursting shell. 
The image of a future Hell. 

The chargers, pressing ever on, 
Until the foemen's strength is gone. 
Awake to only see and feel, 
A ruthless stab, the cold blue steel. 

Their stiffened muscles quake with pain. 
But virtue quickens them again; 
Their manly hearts begin to swell — 
Hamby, Evans, Moran, and Bell. 

These heroes of the bloody past 
Were born to be, not always last; 
They sacrificed their only joy, 
[ . That we might not be Satan's toy. 

They faced the foemen in the field. 
They forced his bravest ranks to yield, 
They drove the rebels to the sea. 
And set the colored people free. 

They waved on high the Stars and Strii^es — 
The symbol of their country's rights; 
They sheltered reason in their breast, 
For home and friends, they feared not death. 

They fought and bled for freedom's sake, 
And we will follow in their wake. 
And God shall praise them long and well — 
Hamby, Evans, Moran, and Boll. 

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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



LIGHT VERSE. 

Oh, my dear, 
She is here. 
Love is near. 
Time's not drear. 

Kids away. 
Gone to stay, 
Love's in bloom, 
There's no gloom. 

Kissing well, 
Work like hell, 
Growing old, 
Age enrolled. 

Soon to sleep. 
Ne'er to weep, 
Heaven knows, 
End of woes. 

Good old times, 
Singing rimes. 
Lots of fun, 
Yes, by gum. 



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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



AMERICA'S BANNER. 



America's banner, the fairest on earth, 
By woman's neat fingers was given its birth; 
When war and destruction spread o'er the land, 
That flag made by woman led victory's band. 

Stainless banner, thy folds forever shall fly 
O'er the realms where freedom's great patriots lie. 
In valley, on mountain, mid-ocean or sea. 
That flag waves in honor to you and to me. 

How proudly we gaze on that cluster of stars, 
Which have carried us through our perilous wars; 
How gallant we fought, though our comrades fell fast. 
Red, white and blue won victory at last. 

When the roaring cannons sang death to our sires. 
That banner was carried through rivers of fire ; 
It waved in the Heavens like an Angel's sheet, 
Till the last arms of tyranny met defeat. 

May that symbol of love e'er wave in the sky. 
Where planets are girded with unfading dyes. 
And hold us united on land and on sea. 
The pride of our Nation, the hope of the free. 



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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



WHEN DAN AND I WERE YOUNG. 



It was the truest pastime, 
That ever I had known, 

When Dan and I went fishing. 
And heard the bul. :rogs moan. 

Hustling along while shadows, 
Clouded the atmosphere; 

Planning to go where forests. 
Abound with bear and deer. 

Telling stories of witches, 

How we would fight the ghost; 

And then we'd shy to one side. 
To escape a tree or post. 

Each expecting the other, 

To shield him from all harm; 

And with an oath we'd mutter, 
I just don't give a darn. 

We talked of being preachers, 
Of holeing in the groun'; 

Of going with a circus. 

To play our part as clown. 

We talked about our neighbors, 
Which ones were good or bad; 

And then about the girls — 
The ones that made us mad. 

We tried our voice as singers. 
And then we'd punch the bag; 

Prepared ourselves, as boxers. 
About our strength we'd brag. 



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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



We never dream't of old age, 
The sweetest songs we sung; 

All of these dear things happened, 
When Dan and I were young. 



OHIO. 



Ohio, my native land, 

Ohio, God's holy strand, 

I love thy hills — meadows green, 

Thy woodlands, and silvery streams. 

Home of Presidents long to be, 
I sure would give my life for thee, 
Thy splendors gleam on heaven's dome, 
Thy form was made for freedom's home. 

Thy name is immortal, thy presence is dear. 

To the ones who dwell ever, whose hearts are all here, 

Ohio, the portal of fortune and fame, 

"Ohio" shall ever be christened thy name. 



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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



"WAR IS HELL." 



From the land of Art and Science 
Comes a wail of human souls; 

Mothers wounded, sons aro dying, 
While the Kings divide the gold. 

Every one is sad and lonely, 

In the trenches or at home; 

Love seems ever, ever sacred, 

Sweethearts' faces gleam like foam. 

O'er the ramparts wave their banners, 
Pierced by many a shot and ball; 

Whilst the screaming of the mortars 
Stills the nerves of each and all. 

Through the midst of smoke and ashes, 
Soldiers charge into their graves. 

To protect their country's honor. 

And restore the throne to knaves. 

Day by day they struggle fiercely. 
O'er Flanders' bloody fields; 

While 'mid Poland's stormy mountains. 
Weeps there the man who yields. 

There the men defend their loved ones, 
Women turn the furrows wide; 

Each new crop and each new offspring 
Helps prolong the bloody tide. 

When our great Tecumseh Sherman 
Told his men that "War was Hell," 

Little did he dream that sometime 

Those bold words would prosper well. 

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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



War is Hell! We need not falter, 
Though 'tis true of every strife. 

Would not you gird on your armor 
During days of blood and strife? 



CEMETERY. 



Not far from town lies a sacred place, 
The future home of the human race; 
Their hopes are chained to the clinging mold. 
Their names in the spirit world are scrolled. 

Their bodies rest in eternal sleep, 
They feel no pain, not one can weep; 
Their spirits trail the unbounded space 
Flung by a power of thought and grace. 

They tower the heavens far and near, 
Mental telepathy makes us hear, 
Receiving their thoughts, transmitting ours, 
Reveals to the world the spirit's power. 

But here in this silent, ghost-like place 
Their slumbers are calm, their cold, pale face 
Blush no more in the presence of men. 
Spirits dwell in mortality's den. 

While old forms decay, new ones are born. 
Spirits await eternity's morn; 
Again they transform in realms of lust. 
Again they decay, return to dust. 



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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



MEMORiAM. 

We know the course they run; 
They see what we have done. 

Oh! where are they who sleep on Bunker's Hill? 

Oh! where aro they who \.l:i at Lundy's Lane? 
Oh! where are they who fell at Brandywine? 

Freedom they won, the laurels they sought in va":i. 

Old Glory guards the fallen hero's tomb; 
Around their graves the fairest flowers bloom; 
They died that wo might v/orship v/hat they gave, 
Ere sinking down into tlie'r silent graves. 

And now we disregard the rights they won; 
We seek not to respect the souls now gone; 
We bow to England's Crown, accept their clay 
As gold, and then for love and peace we pray. 

Shall we disgrace our fathers' sacred soil — 
The land they won by battle's crimson toil. 
And let our Flag be trampled in the dust. 
While Mexican tyrants laugh in greed for lust? 

Our fallen sires gaze down from Heaven's realm 
Upon the man who holds America's helm; 
They see him steering on tov/ards the shoals, 
As Buchanan did, v/hen colored babes were sold. 

They see him cling to the old Monarch's throne, 
Where children weep in agony unknown; 
Where they once dwelt, and served the King as slave:; 
The slaves of English tyrants, kings and knaves. 

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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



They sigh, they pray, that we might grasp the sword, 
And go forth to battle, without a word; 
But, instead of winning the laurels, we bow, 
And humblv grieve: IT'S UP TO WILSON NOW! 



A MESSAGE FROM GOD. 

Here is a message God sent to thee 
From across time's raging, boundless sea; 
He said to tell thee, "All is well," 
Except in the dungeon gloom of Hell. 

My friendly ones to thee I'll tell, 
I praise the German legions well; 
Thy Father's hand, thy Saviour's hand. 
Protect their children's holy land. 
We scorn th.e allies — they are wrong — 
Germany's force is grand and strong; 
We'll show the world that Christ can win 
Crowns of might from powers of sin. 

Von Kluck, Von Krupp, Mackenson, the rest, 

Tempered by God's own hand, were then blest, 

And thrown into the wreck, where victory Survives all storms. 

Where righteousness and glory deftly deals with all wrongs. 

That proud empire of the western hemisphere, 
Av/ait its due, they know victory is near; 
Though brave patriots have bit the bloody dust, 
Fame shall protect these worthy sons from rust. 

Lord Kitchener has sank beneath the waves. 
Where sleep his pals, the thirsty English knaves; 
King George will soon be thrown into chains, 
The laurels Germany then shall claim. 

Ye may not see the dawn of peace so near, 
Though it shall come ere autumn days are sear; 
The German legions undel'eated stand. 
While Christ accepts the Kaiser's sinless hands. 

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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



War's desolation soon will cease, 
And o'er the ruined tombs shall fly 
The symbol of eternal peace, 
Unfurled by angels in the sky. 



Life's course is rough and barren. 

Time marks the pace of all, 
Together we shall travel, 

Together we shall fall. 

Friendship is a lasting pleasure; 

Friendship holds the keys of life; 
May it ever hold our heart-strings 

During years of toil and strife. 

Lady, would not thou accept me, 

As a lover sweet and true? 
When all things are dark before me, 

I shall love no one but you. 

Oh! here's my love, a lady fair. 

At whom all human creatures glare; 

They look, they laugh, they act most queer, 

When she and I mix tea and beer. 

The hobble skirt — a ghastly thing, 

In sunshine or in rain- 
It always makes their steps so short. 

They can't get on the train. 



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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



AN AUTO TRIP TO WEST VIRGINIA. 



Mr. Editor: 

Our trip to West Virginia was made without any special occurrences. 
We saw no ghosts nor cannibals; but, however, we came in contact with 
the Great John Barleycorn, who is said to be the greatest criminal on 
record. We met John at Zanesville and left him at Bridgeport. 

We trailed along mid the towering hills, 
Where our forefathers' hearts were thrilled; 
And down the river, whose evening tides 
Unfurl its gems to the Heavens wide, 
Whose silvery currents once ran red. 
With the blood of Ohio's sinless dead. 

The distance between Frazeysburg and Short Creek is about one 
hundred and thirty miles. The country is extremely rolling but becomes 
rougher as we near the Ohio river. The Old National Pike, which con- 
nects Zanesville with Wheeling, is very much disfigured, and in some 
places almost impassible. 

When we crossed the river we were conirontod by great hills, whose 
majestic scenery appeals to the heart, and impresses imagination. 

We saw Jess Willard, the heavyweight champion fighter; Frank 
Gotch, the champion wrestler, and Miss Dollie Rollins, champion woman 
wrestler of the world. She refused to wrestle the writer because he was 
above her weight. 

We saw where Samuel McCullough made his leap down Wheeling Hill 
and escaped death at the hands of savages. 

A number of young people came to my brother's home Saturday eve- 
ning to bid the two Ohioans good-bye. The evening was spent in games, 
after which ice cream and cake were served. 

* Yours respectfully, 

JENNINGS ASHCRAFT. 

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POEMS AND ESSAYS 



SPIRITUALISM. 



Spiritualism is the essence of religion refined. It is true religion. It 
is not based on hearsay. It is based on facts. 



Mental Telepathy. 



The transmission and reception of thought messages are similar to 
the transmission and reception of wireless messages. 

No man who understands the mind faculties doubts the facts of mental 
telepathy. This is one of the powerful pillars upon which Spiritualism is 
based. V7:'reless telegraphy is based on mental telepathy. 

Spiritualism has proven itself true, transmitting by mental telepathy 
messages from the living body to the spirits of the spirit world. It has 
made itself the idol of the human race. It has made it possible for the 
living to commune with their dead friends. 

The mind of every human being is a dynamo within itself, generates 
its own electricity, its own thoughts, and hurls them through space. 

Other religions stop at the grave, and imagine a hereafter. Spiritual- 
ism trails the chaos of mystery, transmitting messages from the living to 
the dead, and makes it plain to all mankind that spirits dwell throughout 
eternity. 

The reason everyone cannot transmit and receive messages is because 
they have drugged their minds with unreasonable theories and have never 
sought to understand the refined elements of Spiritualism. 



28 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



The following verse was written a few hours after Whitcomb Riley's 
death: 

A TRIBUTE TO JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY. 

Thy form is now resting in the Crimean mold, 
Thy soul is now sleeping, in a mansion of gold, 
Thy works are immortal, thy name liveth on; 
Farewell to thee, Riley, thy spirit hath gone, 
To join the angels in heaven's domain, 
Where Nature forms life's elements again. 



Love is life — one holy union — 

Matters not if rich or poor. 
Greets the husband, greets the dear ones. 

With a kiss at every door. 



The world's greatest men have lived and died. We are but the off- 
spring of our great ancestors. 

The second crop is generally deficient. This rule may well be applied 
to the human race. 



ASHCRAFT DEFENDS JACKSON'S MESSAGE. 



My Dear Critic: 

Did not you say (?) the imaginary bunch of rot by Jennings Ashcraft 
was, for sheer nonsense, superfine? Infidels have criticised the Bible as 
being a bunch of rot. You have criticised Jackson's Message as a bunch 
of rot, therefore we see you are an infidel. 

Jackson does not say that they all met on the Moon. Jackson and 
Buchanan met Cleveland on Mars. What is wrong with your eyes, critic? 
Is your mind groggy from the long use of spiritual liquors instead of spir- 
itual messages? 

Webster says: Sit means to perch; to be in a state of rest or idle- 
ness. Safely means in a safe manner; without incurring danger or hazard 
of evil consequences. 

Why did not you sign your name? Are you ashamed of your own work? 
Suppose Jackson would allow a mistake to creep in? Would you expect 
a man who lived a hundred years ago to use the language of today? Can 

29 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



you use the language that will be used a hundred years hence? In iho 
.spirit world spirits appear in the same form as they appeared on earth. 
Your verse is fairly good, though its meaning is false. All that you know 
concerning astrological realms is what you have learned from books 
written years after Jackson's death. Jackson speaks from experience; 
you speak from hearsay. 

Respectfully submitted, 

JENNINGS ASHCRAFT. 

SPIRITUAL MESSAGE FROM PRESIDENT ANDREW JACKSO.nI. 

A few nights ago I had the pleasure of conversing with the great 
Democratic President. He approached from the chaos of mystery and 
transmitted to m.e the story of his life since death claimed his body: 

Since 1845 I have been wandering from planet to planet; I have 
passed through the friction line in various places, and visited every con- 
stellation in existence. I was first carried to Heaven by the Death Angel, 
and there the Saints approved a verdict that I v/as not good enough to 
enter Heaven. I v/as then carried to the- Inferno, and the Sinners 
approved a verdict that I was not bad enough to enter there. I vras then 
given the liberty to travel from place to place, from realm to realm, and 
dwell among the asmosphcrlcal elements throughout eternity. One night, 
as I sit on a great mountain peak in the Moon, I became suddenly aware 
that someone was near. I gazed across to the opposite side of the peak 
and saw a form crouching as if in despair. Almost simultaneously a voice 
hailed me, "Who's there?" I responded, "Jackson," and returned the inter- 
rogative; and the name Buchanan reached my ear, as spirits can travel 
at lightning speed. In less than a second we were locked in each other's 
embrace, each asking the other how he came to be here. Buchanan in- 
formed me that he had been traveling for several years, and had been 
sentenced to atmospherical life by both Heaven and Inferno. He further 
stated that God had told him that he, like Jackson, had followed the 
wrong path through life, and was too bad to enter Heaven, and a fraction 
too good to enter the Inferno. Buchanan admitted that he was guilty of 
wrong-doing, and repeated often, that if he should live aga'n he would 
follow the same path as Lincoln, Grant and Garfield followed. We trav- 

30 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



eled through this mountainous country in the Moon, and passed through 
the friction line between the Moon and the planet Mars, and landed safely 
on this famous astrological realm. Here we spent several years, often 
journeying to other climates, until a few years ago, when we returned and 
alighted on the banks of a great river, which we had visited often before. 
We were gazing into the silvery currents, watching the great white fish 
as they leaped above the surface of the water, when, from the opposite 
shore, we heard a voice hallooing, "Jackson! Jackson!! Jackson!!!" I 
answered, and a great clumsy form hurled itself across the wide span of 
water and clasped me in his arms, muttering, "I am Grover Cleveland." 
He said that he had been sentenced to atmospherical life, as Buchanan 
and myself were. We rehearsed the story of our past life, of our wrong- 
doing, and swore that if we should return to earth again, we would follow^ 
the path of the great Republican leaders. 

And now, before bidding you good-bye, I wish to inform you that God 
has requested us to assemble in the near future on the Great Orizaba 
Mountain, in Mexico; there we will be joined by another President, Wood- 
row Wilson. 

Young man, I beseech you not to follow the path that we have fol- 
lowed. 



Students of history know that we cannot be certain about things 
which happened three or four thousand years B, C. But we do know that 
during a period, which seems to drop into oblivion at the dawn of history, 
man had reached the highest step on the ladder of intellectual devel- 
opment. 

During that period, between the dawn of history and the birth of 
Christ, we find the human race, with all its arts, with all its magnificent 
principles, sinking rapidly into the fathomless deptlii; of illiteracy. 

Therefore, we see there must be a period of exhaustion and degra- 
dation following every great advancement. 

Then comes the most glorious time in the history of man — the birth 
of Christ, the Son of God; sent forth to inspire the people, and bring them 
back to the days of civilization — ^back to the grand arts of by-gone days. 

Had Christ not been raised from the dead there would have been no 
civilization, Europe would have been populated with savages, instead of 
a far-advanced intellectual race, as it is today. 

31 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



Had the Savior failed to have burst the bars of the tomb, there 
would have been no Christian America, no schools, no churches, no devel- 
opment of the human race. 

If you have studied the history of Ancient Greece, of Rome, of Syria, 
of Arabia, of Persia, of Assyria, Babylonia, the Celts, the Scythians, you 
will find that all the Nations of the then known world had faith in the 
immortality of the soul. 

Now let us come down to modern times; let us search among that 
race, which has never seen a Bible, who knows naught of the resurrection 
of Christ, yet has faith in a future life. Here we find proof that through 
some agency the Almighty has informed them of His presence. 

Therefore, we see, with the birth of Christ comes the dawn of civili- 
zation. The words faith and hope were borne on the breeze; the shat- 
tered remnants of a once glorious race were inspired, and then and there 
began the development of mankind. 

Thousands of years previous to this date, Christ had appeared in our 
midst, on the same mission, and as I before stated, man advanced to the 
highest step on the ladder of intellectual development, only to crumble 
into ignc::.:ice again, or be wafted away to newer climes. 

Remember, there are as many dormant worlds as living ones. Only 
half of the constellations produce living matter; the other half lies dor- 
mant, and recuperates on the waste products of the living ones. Whil*^ 
one-half of the constellations are losing vitality, the other half is gaining 
vitality. 

This is natural philosophy; we must rely on our natural ability in 
this case. There are two extremes, one is to not go far enough; the 
other means to go too far. Between these two extremes we shall find the 
true channel of thought and reason, which will lead us through the dynas- 
ties of time, and explain to us every doubtful point. Before going farther, 
let me ask and ansv/er a few questions: 

Q. How long does the Bible say this world has existed? 

A. A period of about six thousand years. 

Q. Can this theory be relied upon? 

A, No, it cannot. 

Q. Why? 

A. Because, judging from the worlcs of Nature, the earth has existed 
for millions of years. At the present rate the water is defacing Niagara 



32 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



Falls^ the earth has existed for more than seventy-two thousand years. 

Q. Has the Bible been translated, and revised? 

A. Yes. John Wycliffe made a translation of the Bible, about 1380. 
Tyndale translated the New Testament. Miles Coverdale, Bishop of 
Exeter, made a translation of the Bible about 1535. Cranmer's Bible 
appeared in 1540. King James revised the Bible about 1610. 

If the Bible were true in the beginning, why was it translated, and 
revised? If it were false in the beginning, revising only serves to make 
matters worse. 

The Bible in its true form would be undisputable. It has been revised, 
translated from another language, once destroyed — then a few fragments 
bound together with a tissue of human imagination forms the Bible of our 
present day. 

Education, obedience, justice and humanity are the greater elements 
in which we find true religion and all moral principles. Those who 
accept these principles imbibe from the glass which holds the greater 
elements, while those who reject them follow the path of misfortune 
to where 



Flowers never bloom. 
Mid the thorns of gloom. 



During that age, when the Almighty's works were new, the Bible gave 
to the race of mankind a true idea of all earthly elements. Those were 
the days when baser metals were turned to gold, the great pyramids 
erected, the finest tools were made of copper, and there seemed to be a 
constant flow of Nature's magical art. 

When the Bible was first presented to man, there was but one religion. 
Since then it has been altered. The result was that several religions 
sprang forth, and all are based upon the defaced volume. 

It's no wonder that four-fifths of the people of the State of Ohio are 
not church members. Remember, that every religion of the present day 
is based on the Bible, and that Bible consists of a few facts interwoven 
by the translators. 

Science has arrested the progress of religion and the development 
of the human race. It is based on Nature. What is Nature? It is nothing 

33 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



more than the essence of all great elements, which, when combined, form 
planets and life. Therefore, we see free thinkers have done nothing but 
changed the word God to Nature. 

What is the difference between Science and Nature? 

Science starts in a frail bark, expecting to invent some powerful 
instrument which might insure safety during a storm. But, alas! the frail 
vessel springs a leak, and drifts helplessly on towards the irresistible rocks 
of misfortune, and the only thing we heat from her gallant crew is a 
heartrending wail. 

Nature starts across life's stormv sea in a vessel fully equipped U> 
withstand the billows of a rock-bound coast, and quietly casts her anclioi 
on the farther shore. Her vessel is true religion, her pilot is Jesus Christ, 
Savior of the world. 

Both the church and free thinkers are mistaken; they have resorted 
to foul tactics, left the realm of reason, cannot see beyond todaj^ or review 
the past. 

The church has defended its title by magnifying unreasonable the- 
ories. Free thinkers declare the world was never created that Nature 
is the base of everything and the. Bible not worth consideration. 

We know that some parts of the Bible are incorrect, and the more 
you try to force its unreasonable phases upon the public, especially those 
who are gifted with great instincts, the more they seem inclined to drift 
away and seek refuge in the crevices of free thought. 

If you have studied both sides of the question, you should have come 
to the conclusion that free thinkers gained their skeptical ideas through 
the mistakes of the translators, and for centuries the church has been the 
stumbling block of true religion. 

If the Bible was once true, why did it need to be revised? If the first 
revision was not correct, then a second and third only pulls it farther 
av/ay from its once trae form. If the great translators of the fifteenth 
century failed to produce a true volume, how can we, with our imagina- 
tion, make their correct? The translators had some dark object in view 

34 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



when they allowed these mistakes to creep in. 

The following extracts are taken from the Bible. They prove to us 
that the translators were mistaken, or Christ was a fool: 

Christ said: Resist not evil; but whosoever shall smite thee on thy 
right cheek, turn to him the other also. 

St. Luke, 19:27: But those mine enemies, which would not that I 
should not reign over them, bring hither, and slay them before me. 

St. Luke, 19:25: For I say unto you, that unto every one w^hich hath, 
shall be given, and from him that hath not, even that he hath shall bo 
taken away from him. 

I dispute that a man endowed with the power to save the human race 
w^ould have been low enough in mind to have uttered such parables. 
According to the Scriptures, Christ taught one thing one day, another the 
next. 

Show me a man who will not resist evil, show me another who be- 
lieves in robbing the poor and giving to the rich, and I will prove to you 
that that man is the kind the Bible represents as a Christ. 

I defy the w^orld to disprove that statem.ent, and, furthermore, dispute 
that Christ was as represented. 

Don't mistake me for a liar; 

That's one thing I'll never tell, 
'Cause the Bible's filled with briars 

And the scorching flames of Hell. 

Whether the Bible of today is true or untrue, it does not hinder us 
from seeking its once true form. All men who are capable of producing 
thoughts know that the Bible of today is not correct. 



SHALL WE LIVE AGAIN? 

This age was at one time thought to be eternity, just as we call ihe 
future years eternal years. We know that during that once eternal future, 
man existed; then why would it not be possible that he will exist always? 
We have proof that man has existed throughout the past, and this age 
will some time be spoken of as the distant par;t, and as well as we the 
generations of that day will know that man existed during the pre.ent 
day. 

35 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



Life has never been extinct on this earth; it never shall be. Both man 
and beast have souls, because one could not live without the other. Life 
is life, only in various forms. 

We know that everything that now lives has always lived; and any- 
thing which has always lived will always live. 

MY RELIGION. 

I have but one Christ and one God. I deny the Bible of today because 
it is the work of man. Christ has been misrepresented; God's works have 
been torn into fragments and rebuilded by translators and kings. 

There will be vast periods of progress, followed by great upheavals, 
exhaustion, and degradation of the human race. Again Christ shall appear, 
and civilization will once more be restored. These difficulties shall be 
experienced at different intervals, until the now known worlds exhausted, 
and the Moon and other burnt-out climes have fully recuperated. The 
Almighty will blow the trumpet, and both man and beast will be trans- 
ferred to newer climes. We shall meet there the same as we meet here; 
there will be but one difference: The wicked will be left here to suffer 
as they mny, while the blest begin as they began in this world, and follow 
the changes until death. There in their graves they shall av/ait the day 
when every element of life will be transferred to newer worlds. The 
above theory is based on the Bible. "The clouds severed, and there 
descended to this earth beasts of all kinds." 

When Columbus discovered America, he came in contact with savages, 
and no doubt but what they were the offspring of sinners who were left 
behind in the last great transmigration of the souls. 

Christ was not born of woman. His body did not have to be incu- 
bated in a human body. He appeared the last time as He always appeared. 
He shall appear again and again, until the resources of this earth are 
exhausted, and then begin the same task wherever life may be tran.s- 
ferred. All that we know concerning our Christ is the fact that He was 
a man, endowed with superhuman mechanism, and the smartest man of 
that day. Christ was misrepresented by His Apostles, and the translators 
and kings misrepresented the whole, from beginning to end. 

Therefore, we see the Bible of today consists of a few facts inter- 
woven by the translators. 

God, the worlds, and all things, have existed throughout eternity. 
They shall exist throughout etornity. 



3G 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



LESSON IN VERSiFlCATiON 



Internal Rhynnes. 
The moonbeams fall, on cottage walls, 

Where children sleep, and mothers weep; 
Where evening shades surround the maids, 

And darkness shrouds the vaulted deep. 

Suggestive Words. 
The Withering Masses. 
The Invincible Farmer. 
The Celestial Sea. 
The Mysterious Heavens. 

Figurative Forms for (A). 

A Woman's Smile. A Glowing Charm. A Fathomless Sea. 

A Thought of Death. 

Trochee Poetry. 

We have started on life's journey 

Through time's narrovr barren, vale; 
Do we dare attempt a passage 
Without either ehip or sail. 
This sort of verse is best suited for spirited expression 
in such songs as "Yankee Doodle." 

The Same Meter Used on the Same Subject. 
(Evening — Iambic Meter.) 
The shades of consecrated lav/s are drawn, 

37 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



Ere daylight's rays have kissed all worldly forms, 
And in the Heavens gleam ten thousand stars, 
Which represent the worlds of life afar. 

Anapaestic Tvleter. 

And the Stars) shineth forth) through darkness). 

Dactylic Meter. 

Common it is to us. 

Warlike Action. 

Charge! with the bayonet, double quick! 

Open fire! when they wink, 

No quarter! till the field is swept. 

And the soil with foemen's blood is wet. 

Flowing Water. Sound. 

We hear water rippling, 'mong the pebbles and the sand. 
We feel the minnows squirming, as they flip within our hand, 
And we hear a terrible splash — 'tis a bullfrog's sudden dash. 
Into the silv'ry waters, 'neath the willow and the ash. 

Tetrameter Verse. 

Same Style as Tennyson's "Memoriam." 
I love the man who always sings. 

To one true love in sweetest tone; 

That he can rise without one groan, 
And croon beneath an Angel's wings. 

Iambic Meter. (Fame.) 

Farewell, may I not seek thee now. 
To humbler elements I shall bow. 
And find a place among the rest, 

88 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



Crooning in my lonely nest. 

I shall not seek thee, through those years 

Lost in the mist ol toil and tears, 

But I shall rise and spread my wings, 

Above the ramparts of the svv'ain, 

And choose thee, Fame, to be my own. 

After the years of strife are flown. 



POETRY. 

Poetry is an invention, a mechanism consisting of words — wrought 
by an inspired imagination, influenced by sublime elements, and governed 
by natural laws. 

The nearer we draw to Nature, the greater we find all things. Our 
ancient ancestors, who roamed at will, 'mid the jungletrees, chanting a 
continuous stream of thoughts, in which could be found participles of 
rhythni, were the vanguard of poetic development. 



Therefore, we say, primitive man was gifted with a poetic instinct. 
Because it seems to be his most natural mode of expression. Nature 
formed the elements, chance opened the doors of life, and Providence 
chose her idols. 

He who can weave among the elements a chaplet unknown to the 
multitude is a confidant of Nature, and to him she opens her mysterious 
multitude is a confident of Nature, and to him she opens her mysterious 
books of consecrated laws, empties the ingredients into her chosen idol, 
and he molds them into living gems. 

Blank Verse. 

The towering hills surround the lowly vale, 
The rippling streams partake of Nature's wealth, 
The elements of chance and fate unite. 
Where men unfurl the ghastly toil of years. 

One grent advantage in blank verse is that the writer's path is not 
obstructed with the use of perfect or imperfect rhyme. 

39 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



The sentence is not regulated in length by the stanzas. Each line 
must contain the same number of feet. 

Always use short lines for spirited expression, as in warlike action. 
The ballad line consists of seven metrical feet, usually divided into alter- 
nate lines of four and three feet. 

Balla'd form, same meter as Macaulay used in his poem, "Ivry." 
A million soldiers marching on; a million foes before. 
A million women weep behind! for ones they'll see no more. 
An Iambic foot consists of two syllables, the first unaccented, the 
second accented. 

Example, 

The shades/ of con/secra/ted laws/are drawn. 

Ere day/light's rays/ have kissed/ all world/ly forms' 

Trochee Meter. Review Longfellow.'s Psalm of Life. It is just the 
reverse of the Iambic. The first accented, the second unaccented. 

Dactyl meter, or foot. Consists of two unaccented syllables, followed 
by one which is accented. 

The Anapaest foot consists of three syllables, the first two unac- 
cented the third accented. 

Q. What is prosody? 

A. Jt teaches the composition of poetic verse. 

Q. What is verse? 

A. It consists of a certain number of lines, governed by accent — 
divided into feet, and each foot contains from one to four accented and 
unaccented syllables. 

Q. What is meter? 

A. Meter consists of an equal measurement of lines, 

Q. What is rhythm ? 

A. Rhythm consists of the recurrence of similar vowel sounds, at 
the ends of lines of poetry. 

Q. What is mixed vene? 

A. Mixed verse consists of an intermixture of various kinds of feet. 

Q. Kinds of verse? 

A, Verse is named according to the number of feet contained in a 
line. See following table: 

Monometer — A line of one foot. 
Diameter — A line of two feet. 

40 



POEMS AND ESSAYS 



Trimeter — A line of three feet. 

Tetrameter — A line of four feet. 

Pentameter— A line of five feet. 

Hexameter — A line of six feet. 

Heptameter — A line of seven feet. 

Octometer — A line of eight feet. 
Q. Would you feel free to use an imperfect rhyme, if it appears in 
masterpieces? 

A. No. Because this use of imperfect rhyme would lead to the 
rejection of your poem by magazines. 

Q. What rule governed ancient verse? 
A. Each line contained the same number of syllables. 
Q. Modern verse? 

A. Modern verse is governed by accent. 

Q. What single influence has done most to raise the moral ideals of 
poetry? 

A. Some writers say Christianity, others say civilization. I say 
poetry itself has done most to raise the moral ideals of its beauty. 

Q. What is a trite or hackneyed expression? 

A. A trite or hackneyed expression is any group of words which are 
repeated too frequently. iSfearly every paragraph in the Bible has become 
a hackneyed expression. 

Q. Is it necessary to display the same number of syllables in each 
line of poetry? 

A. It is not ahvays necessary for a good writer to place the same 
number of syllables in each line, because a sudden change will sometimes 
cause the reader's mind to wander and dwell longer on the subject. 



41 



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